


Future Life, Past Reminiscences

by Silent_So_Long



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Birthday, Fall Fandom Free For All, Fluff, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-23
Updated: 2011-09-23
Packaged: 2017-10-23 23:58:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/256542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silent_So_Long/pseuds/Silent_So_Long
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean reminiscences upon his recent past on his birthday. AU, future!fic, sett sometime after the Season 6 finale, and ignoring anything that may happen in the premier epi of S7. (It hasn’t yet aired at time of writing.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Future Life, Past Reminiscences

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wolfrider89](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=wolfrider89).



> written for wolfrider89’s prompt left on the Fall Fandom Free for All, hosted by oxoniensis - [Fic: SPN - Something shmoopy, maybe a Dean/Castiel hug!fic or a domestic future!fic. Please don't kill Cas or Sam or Dean, though.](http://oxoniensis.livejournal.com/489753.html?thread=30500633)
> 
>   
> [   
> ](http://oxoniensis.livejournal.com/489753.html)   
> 

Dean yawned, stretching languidly in bed, as the hazy early morning light drifted in through the bedroom window. Vague dust-motes drifted, spiralling lazily as the sun painted soft patterns against the dark walls. Dean shifted slightly, allowing his consciousness to adjust to full wakefulness, as his mind drifted naturally towards Castiel.

He suddenly sat up and looked to the empty space in bed where Castiel should have been, yet blatantly wasn’t. Dean rested his hand upon the sheets beside him and found the silken material cold. Castiel had long since gone.

“Huh,” Dean muttered to himself, returning his gaze to the window and the world slowly wakening outside.

He yawned loudly, spreading his arms and his bunched fists wide, opening his body to the world and the empty spaces around him. He stretched, legs, feet and toes splaying to ease the stiffness of a night spent in the arms of Castiel and sleep. Finally, Dean smiled, and cast a glance around the room again.

Despite having slept in this room, lived in this house for more than a year now, Dean could not believe that this was his. It seemed too surreal, too far distant from his previous life as a hunter of the supernatural to believe that a normal, suburban life could now be claimed as his own. He’d almost had that life with Lisa, but it hadn’t been the same as the life he now shared with Castiel. It hadn’t been quite so happy nor so settled with Lisa, for a start.

He shifted, swinging his legs up and over the side of the bed, soles of his feet resting against the carpeted floor tentatively. For a moment, Dean paused, mind caught on the last moments of Castiel’s life as a self-proclaimed God, when the angel side of him had won the internal struggle no one but Castiel himself had even been aware of.

Every last soul Castiel had ingested had been purged from his body, one by one by one in little flashes of blue-green-white light, flickering and burning against Dean’s eyes. Sam and Bobby had turned away, unable to look at the sheer brilliance of the multitude of souls reclaiming their freedom from Castiel’s hold. Dean himself had forced himself to watch through the pain of the glare, needing to see what happened to Castiel after it was all over. To his infinite relief, when the last soul had drifted on its way, Castiel had been left alive, although just barely.

The angel had been laying, collapsed upon the ground and Dean winced at the memory of how fragile the angel looked, tiny against the bright splash of his tan coat upon the ground. That frailness had made his already slender body more bird-like and worn and it had ripped at everything Dean held within himself, all that remained of his humanity and his sympathies towards Castiel, that the angel might not make it.

He’d closed the distance between them tentatively, fearful that Castiel still might retain some of his power and smite Dean where he stood, just for showing sympathy. It wasn’t as though Castiel had registered something as base as a human emotion in his Godstiel state previously. Dean was gratified to note, however that Castiel had allowed him to approach, to even kneel beside him, to prop Castiel’s head in his lap tenderly. It was Dean himself, who did not allow either Bobby or Sam to approach, too mindful of crowding the fallen Castiel.

Castiel’s eyes were open, focused and blinking up at Dean wondrously. There was no pain that Dean could determine in the angel’s gaze, or at least any pain that was recognizable to him. One slender hand lifted and rested against Dean’s cheek and Castiel smiled slightly when the hunter had leant into his touch slightly.

“I’m sorry, Dean,” was all Castiel said, at first.

Dean didn’t reply, uncertain as to whether he should even forgive Castiel for all that he’d done. Castiel frowned slightly, lips pushing out into a pout as he thought and watched Dean stare back at him. His next words decided Dean’s mind.

“I’m human,” Castiel had said. “The souls ripped my Grace away.”

There’d been panic at that, anger from all of them, yet after the storm had subsided over Castiel’s announcement, all Dean could feel was relief. He knew he should feel guilty for that, yet he didn’t. He couldn’t, not even when he suspected that it was partially his fault for driving Castiel into losing his Grace in the first place. If he’d listened to Castiel all those months ago, tried harder to help, perhaps this wouldn’t even have happened.

Dean shook himself then, bringing himself back into the present and out of the realm of memories once more. He sighed and knew that Castiel’s fall from Grace turned out to be perhaps the best thing. Castiel, of course, had stayed with them, having nowhere else to go and no port of call to call his home anymore. Castiel hadn’t seem to mind the transition from angel to human, too tired of the previous constant struggles and the confident power he’d shown in his final days as a God to even care. That had come as further relief to Dean, who felt as though he didn’t have to watch over Castiel to ensure that the former angel wouldn’t turn into the pot-smoking, orgy-loving, hippy version of himself Dean had met once.

Castiel had helped them on some of their hunts, rounding up the last of the monsters spawned by Eve, returning them to Purgatory where they belonged. Dean had gotten to know Castiel a little better than he had before, and found that despite his continuing inability to understand jokes at times, he was actually a nice guy. Their friendship had soon moved into something more serious, morphing from friends into lovers, into a relationship more permanent and lasting. Sam, at least, had breathed a sigh of relief over Dean and Castiel’s relationship becoming realized, something that the younger Winchester had thought had been on the cards for a long time.

It hadn’t been long before Bobby had insisted they leave his house before he lost his sanity at having three full grown children thundering about his house, shaking its very foundations with every movement. He’d helped them to find a place of their own in Sioux Falls, helped them with the initial down payments, even helped Dean to find a part-time job as a bartender. Despite grousing at having a permanent home, and a mortgage to go with it, Dean had found he’d settled into the life quicker than he’d imagined. He didn’t even miss the lack of hunts any more, when they’d started drying up entirely. He had everything he needed, his house, his job and his family living with him. Castiel started working part-time at a local used book-store and Sam went back to school to finish off his law degree.

Dean looked up when he heard a soft knock at the door to his bedroom, further distancing him from thoughts of his recent past. He grinned slightly when he saw Sam standing in the doorway. Sam smiled back, already dressed and ready to head out for the day.

“Hey, Sammy,” Dean said, glad when he saw the resultant wince at his nickname for his brother.

Despite most other things that had changed, that one small wince hadn’t. Sam still didn’t like being referred to as the child-like “Sammy.” It made Dean call him that even more.

“Hey, Dean. You okay?” Sam asked.

“Yeah,” Dean replied, with a shrug. “You?”

“Yeah. Just thought I’d wish you a happy birthday before I left for the day,” Sam replied, as he extended an envelope covered card and a wrapped gift with a nonchalant flourish.

“Thanks,” Dean said, as he stood, every joint in his limbs popping with protest at the sudden movement. “Another year older. Where’s Cas?”

“Downstairs, in the kitchen. He asked me to tell you to come straight down when you’re ready,” Sam replied, as he watched Dean slide open the envelope.

Dean nodded absently, as he read the scrawled inscription inside the card, before he placed it upon the bed to deal with his gift. He grinned slightly, feeling beneath the paper the unmistakable lines of an old cassette tape. Sam must really have searched long and hard for this gift, as Dean knew cassettes were hard to come by these days. It made the gift that much more special, even before Dean had seen what it was. His grin grew wider when he saw the familiar sea of grave markers on the album’s cover and the hands that descended from the sky with flourished puppet strings held between them. The unmistakable Metallica logo was emblazoned across the sky with “Master of Puppets” joining it underneath.

“Thanks, Sammy,” Dean said, as he pulled his brother into a tight hug.

Sam laughed, body stiff in Dean’s arms, but he still allowed the hug anyway. Dean finally let his brother go when Sam cleared his throat in brotherly embarrassment, before the elder Winchester pushing the younger one away.

“Get yourself gone, Sam. Don’t want you to be late on account of me,” Dean said, as he winked at his brother.

Sam shrugged as though being late was of little consequence to him, yet still Dean shooed him away with one sweep of his hands. Sam laughed, bade his goodbyes and went, booted feet pounding down the stairs energetically. Dean heard the sounds of Sam bidding farewell to Castiel and the former angel’s soft reply. The front door banged leaving Dean alone with Castiel, at last.

He took his time with showering, savouring the flow of hot water across his sleep-heated skin, wakening his senses into something more coherent and human again. He sighed, running fingers through his hair to wash the soap out, glad that he had the day off from work at last. He had the whole day to lounge around with Castiel and not have to worry over a thing. He finally stepped out of the shower stall just seconds shy of his skin becoming wrinkled like a prune, towelling himself dry and dressing himself in jeans and t shirt.

He padded downstairs, aiming for quiet treads but his feet still made soft thudding noises anyway. Castiel had obviously heard the sounds of Dean’s movement, for he was already looking over his shoulder and smiling slightly at Dean when he entered. The former angel was slaving over the stove, body looking frail in his still new-looking jeans and t shirt outfit. Dean paused, staring at Castiel with a smile, still unable to get used to seeing him without his usual suit and coat attire. At least now, Castiel looked more comfortable, more human than he had before.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel said.

His clothes and status might have changed, but his tone hadn’t. His voice was still pitched low and gruff, words coming out hoarse and harsh, yet still somehow warm and inviting when applied in the right way.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean replied, as he crossed the kitchen and draped both arms around Castiel’s waist.

Castiel leant back into him, eyes closed and smile curving his lips, back pressing neatly against Dean’s chest. Dean took the opportunity to press a kiss to Castiel’s waiting mouth, before glancing down at the meal Castiel was preparing.

“What’s that? French toast? When did you learn to cook French toast?” Dean asked, in surprise.

“The TV,” Castiel said, slight embarrassment creeping into his tones at that.

A slight flush coloured his cheeks, yet still he met Dean’s gaze head-on.

“Right,” Dean replied, with a snort.

“Sit down, Dean. And happy birthday,” Castiel announced, as he flipped the French toast expertly onto two plates.

“Thanks,” Dean said, while idly wondering where Castiel’s present was.

Castiel, himself, didn’t refer to it at all, not even when the plates were washed and dried. His eyes held the shimmer of some secret amusement, however, and the explanation for his reserved humour was explained when he led Dean into the lounge, fingers tenderly twined through Dean’s.

“A TV,” Dean said, in surprise, when he saw the present and the source of Castiel‘s amusement. “You got me a TV?”

“Yes, Dean. It’s one of those High Definition things you’re always raving about and I bought a BluRay machine as well,” Castiel said, proudly.

“Player,” Dean corrected with a laugh. “BluRay player.”

“I believe that is what I said, Dean,” Castiel said, with a confused frown and a tilt of his head towards the other man.

Dean laughed at that, glad that Castiel hadn’t lost some of his angelic traits along with his Grace. The confused head tilt of doom was still firmly amongst Castiel’s repertoire of personal gestures.

“Fine. You got anything to watch on this thing, dude?” Dean asked. “We’ve got a BluRay player, we need some BluRay discs, right?”

“Yes, I have that all covered. I got you the complete set of Star Wars and Die Hard movies plus the original series of Star Trek, too,” Castiel said, proudly.

“Oh, dude, you’re awesome,” Dean said, as he plonked himself down in front of the TV happily.

After Dean had discovered that Castiel had already set the TV and BluRay player up for him, he inserted one of the Star Trek discs into the player and moved to the more comfortable spot upon the sofa. Castiel joined him at Dean’s insistence, settling into the other man’s side as Dean draped one arm easily around Castiel’s body.

Castiel watched as Dean flipped the remote in one hand, pressed play and selected one of his favourite episodes to watch - “The City on the Edge of Forever.” Joan Collins’ face soon graced the screen, alongside that of William Shatner and Leonard Nimoy. Occasionally DeForest Kelley screamed - “Assassins! Murderers!” - which seemed to amuse Castiel greatly. Dean, in turn, smiled, and kissed the other man on the top of his dark-haired head, and settled down for a well-deserved popcorn-fuelled movie marathon with Castiel.

~~ the end ~~


End file.
